


Collateral

by wickedthoughts



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Begging, Blood, Castration, Chains, Cissexism, Crying, Hurt Sam Winchester, M/M, Mutilation, No Sex, Protective Dean Winchester, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Assault, Sibling Incest, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-13 00:04:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5686819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedthoughts/pseuds/wickedthoughts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Magnus needs a bargaining chip to ensure Dean's cooperation. Luckily for Magnus, he has Sam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Collateral

**Author's Note:**

> I was rewatching 9x16 the other day and this came to me. I'm a sick fuck, whatever.
> 
> As always, read the warnings. This is fucked-up, there is no happy ending, and there are no plans for a sequel. Read at your own risk.

* * *

“I think Sam here will get you to see things my way.”

Dean thrashed and yelled, fighting against the chains holding him to the post in Magnus’ opulent home. This effort was as futile as his previous attempts to escape. He had to keep trying. He had to, because Magnus had just finished securing Sam to a pillar across from Dean. The rogue Man of Letters brandished a wicked-looking blade, his teasing words making his intentions for Dean’s brother clear. Dean didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t give in to this madman’s demands, couldn’t wield the First Blade at Magnus’s power-hungry whims, but if he didn’t-

“Magnus, I swear to god,” Dean both threatened and pleaded for Sam at the same time. He’d dropped the Blade earlier, but now he wished he still had it in his grip. Maybe it would activate the Mark, make him stronger, better, but it was at his feet and the brand on his right forearm remained inactive.

“What are you gonna do?”

Magnus scoffed at Dean, before turning to Sam. The younger Winchester’s mouth was set defiantly, but his eyes followed Magnus’ movements with obvious fear.

“What is he gonna do?” Magnus asked Sam, raising the knife. “Huh?”

The blade was sharp. Magnus barely had to apply any pressure to open a bleeding gash in Sam’s cheek. The pained noise Sam made sent Dean into a blind panic. He fought his restraints with renewed fervor, to no avail.

“Look, look, Sam,” Magnus soothed, a mockery of comfort for Sam’s fear. “I’m not gonna kill you. Of course not. But I am gonna make you suffer unimaginably, all right?”

He made another slice on the side of Sam’s neck. Sam shuddered and groaned. Dean’s chains clanked as he struggled and he looked wildly around in the desperate, impossible hope that someone would be there. Crowley, Cas by some miracle, someone, anyone. But they were alone with a megalomaniac in his magically-guarded, invisible fortress. They were fucked. _Sam_ was fucked.

“I’ll kill you, you son of a bitch,” Dean promised. “I’ll kill you!”

Magnus looked over his shoulder at Dean.

“That’s not the right attitude at all, Dean. I don’t think you’re taking this as seriously as you should be.”

He focused his attention back on Sam.

“How can we make him see the, uh, gravity of the situation? Any thoughts, Sam?”

“Yeah, I have a few,” Sam’s breath hitched. “You could stop, let us go with the First Blade, and maybe- _maybe-_ my brother will let you live. Or, disregarding that, you could shove that knife up your ass.”

“Sam, don’t!”

Dean was torn between pride and alarm. Sam’s bravado was no less than he would show- no less than he _had_ shown under similar circumstances- but he didn’t want Sam to provoke Magnus any further. He pulled at the unyielding chains again. It was the only thing he could do.

“Ooh, the little brother’s got chutzpah! I like that. I do. Makes this more fun for me.”

Sam’s breathing had evened out as he adjusted to the pain. Dean could see him steeling himself for Magnus’ next cut, but Magnus merely took a step back. He ran his eyes appraisingly over Sam’s captive form.

“I think you’ve got too many layers on, bucko. Hold still now. I wouldn’t want to damage you unnecessarily.”

Magnus used the knife to shred Sam’s clothes with surprising speed while the younger man grimaced and grunted uncomfortably. Dean raged helplessly, snarling profanities as his brother was stripped naked. Magnus discarded the last scraps of denim from Sam’s thighs, leering up at him.

“Wowee, look at you champ! There’s a body you can be proud of. Not to mention you’re hung like a horse.”

Magnus cupped Sam’s genitals, squeezing lightly as he chuckled. Sam drew in a sharp intake of breath. His eyes widened and his lips twitched upward in an attempt at spite, but only succeeded in betraying his terror. Dean wanted to howl with frustration. More than anything, more than ganking Abaddon or Metatron or even Magnus in this moment, Dean wanted to put himself between his little brother and the thing that was causing him that much fear. But he couldn’t.

“Get your hands off him, you fuckin’ perv!”

“Who’re you calling perverted?” Magnus spoke to Dean without looking at him, but he let go of Sam. “I mean, I’m not the one with a hard-on for my own brother.”

Dean’s heart leapt into his throat and he could feel his ears start to burn.

“What- what are you-?”

“Oh, don’t try to deny it, Dean. I’ve heard all about you Winchester boys,” Magnus clicked his tongue. “Shameful, shameful things. If only Henry could see his legacy now. What his precious grandsons get up to in the dark.”

“That’s none of your business,” Sam asserted shakily, slowly regaining his composure after Magnus’ violation.

“I think it _is_ my business, though. Yes, you two walk around claiming to be Men of Letters while fucking like little incestuous bunnies. Makes the whole operation look bad.”

“Yeah, well it’s not like you’re actually part of the club,” Sam scoffed. “They booted your ass out.”

“And look where that got them. They’re all dead and gone. I’m the only one left. Hell, I _am_ the Men of Letters!”

His knife-hand darted out. A line of red appeared on Sam’s upper left thigh and he yelped in surprise.

“Magnus!” Dean bellowed, trying to buy himself and Sam more time. Magnus turned to him. “Fine! Fine, you win. I’ll do it, whatever you want, just stop. Let Sam go.”

“Dean, no!”

Magnus ignored Sam’s outburst. He grinned at Dean.

“Yes, you _will_ do whatever I want. You will. But if you think Sam’s going anywhere, you are sorely mistaken. He’s my collateral.”

“Okay, fine,” Dean acquiesced, heart sinking. “But- but you’ve made your point. You don’t have to hurt him anymore.”

“You’re wrong there. I think I need to teach both of you one more lesson. You need to know that I’m not dicking around here.”

He smiled wickedly and turned back to Sam.

“I believe you!” Dean shouted. “Leave him the fuck alone!”

“Let me be clear, Deano,” Magnus traced the point of his knife down the muscles of Sam’s smooth chest to his flat stomach without breaking the skin. Sam’s hands clenched into tight fists. “I don’t ever wanna hear you give me an order again.”

He pushed the end of the knife ever-so-slightly. Blood oozed from just underneath Sam’s belly button, catching in the light trail of hair that began there. It trickled over Sam’s cock and balls, dripping on the floor between his feet. Sam closed his eyes and pressed the back of his head against the pillar, trying not to respond, but Dean could see him shaking.

“Do you understand?”

Dean wanted so badly to rage and swear and tell this piece of shit exactly what he thought. Hopelessness washed over him.

“Yeah,” he muttered grudgingly.

“Excellent,” Magnus moved away from Sam, beaming, and set the knife down on a marble end table. “Sit tight, boys. I just have to get a few things.”

Once the echo of Magnus’ footsteps had receded down the corridor, Dean renewed the battle against his chains with a vengeance. It was all he could think to do.

“Dean? Dean, are you alright?”

Sam was looking at him with concern. The tone of his voice made Dean simultaneously want to hug and throttle his little brother.

“Am- am _I_ alright? I’m fuckin’ peachy, Sammy, I ain’t the one he was cuttin’ on. Are _you_ alright?”

“This is nothin’,” Sam shrugged off his trauma the way he usually did. “We’ve both had way worse.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll get out of this,” Dean vowed. “I’m gonna make that piece of shit pay for-”

“I know, Dean,” Sam sighed, his mouth twisting into a rueful little half-smile. “Guess I shoulda brought Crowley in with me after all.”

“You couldn’t have known- ” Dean began, but trailed off when he heard footsteps approaching. Magnus re-entered the room, a bottle of iodine in one hand and an ominous looking silver tool in the other. It looked like a giant pair of pliers with a round, blunt head and black rubber grips on the handles. Dean didn’t know what it was, but he felt a shiver run down his spine. Sam was staring at it with similar trepidation.

“What were you boys talking about?” Magnus inquired jovially. “I heard you mention Crowley. That’s the demon you were working with outside? You know he pretty much sold you to me, right? I gave him a spell to help him with old what’s-her-name, and he helped me complete my collection with the Mark of Cain.”

Dean heard Sam’s angry little huff of breath, but he couldn’t bring himself to be surprised by Crowley’s betrayal. Magnus pointed at Sam with the device in his hand.

 _“You_ had a chance to go about your merry way, but oh no, you had to insert yourself in places where you don’t belong. That’s gonna cost you dearly.”

“Magnus-” Dean said, but Magnus muttered some words in what sounded like Latin and Dean found himself unable to speak. He opened and closed his mouth a few times in a way that must have looked completely ridiculous. He rattled his chains impotently.

“I shouldn’t be letting you off so easy, Dean, but I feel kinda bad for Sam here. He’s about to have a rough enough time as it is, I don’t want you to go saying anything else he’s going to regret.”

Dean shouted silently as Magnus focused his full attention on Sam.

“You know what this is, Sam?”

Magnus waved the device at him. Sam’s jaw clenched and he gave a small shake of his head.

“This is a farmer’s tool. It’s called a burdizzo emasculatome. Kind of a mouthful, I know, but it gets the job done. I use it to help control the population in my zoo. Sometimes you just don’t want your pets breeding.”

“Oh god, no.”

Sam’s eyes widened and his face paled when he realized the implications of Magnus’ explanation. He struggled manically against his bonds in a wasted effort to move himself away from the man menacing him. That was when Dean’s brain made the connection between Magnus’ words and that malevolent device. He was immobilized by horror; even if he had been able to speak he wasn’t sure that he could have articulated the words. His brother was so large, so magnificent, and yet utterly helpless to escape from that fate that made Dean’s brain balk and his gut twist. Sam’s soft cock and large balls moved with his struggling body, nestled in coarse curls at the apex of his strong thighs. Those balls powered Sam. Not just his physical strength, but all the carnal things Dean loved about his brother. They were powerful, yet so vulnerable. _Not that,_ his mind screamed, _not Sam!_

“Magnus- ” Sam choked in fear as Magnus leaned down slightly between his legs. “Magnus, no- _don’t.”_

His voice rumbled with a desperate blend of authority and imploration. _Don’t_ he commanded; _Don’t_ he begged. Magnus ignored both. He popped the cap off the iodine one-handed, pouring a generous amount over the head of the burdizzo before splashing some over Sam’s groin. Sam hissed.

“A little disinfectant,” Magnus explained conversationally. “But that’s really all the preparation we need. The beauty of the burdizzo is that it crushes the spermatic cords instead of cutting them. No blood, no mess, and much less risk of infection.”

He placed the bottle on the floor and grabbed Sam by the balls, pulling down firmly. Sam went wild, trying to get away, but he was thwarted by the tightness of his chains. Magnus sighed.

“You gotta hold still, buddy. I gotta get this right. Which one should I start with?”

“No,” Sam was hyperventilating. “No, don’t.”

“I guess we’ll start with the right,” Magnus decided. “Well, my right. Your left.”

“No!”

Sam slammed his head back against the pillar, shuddering. His eyes squeezed shut around tears of pain and helpless frustration as Magnus yanked his balls down even farther. Dean could only watch in similar helplessness. He would have sold his soul again at that moment to stop this. To take Sam in his arms, comfort and protect him, and strike Magnus down for daring to touch him like that. For daring to threaten him like that. Dean shouted every insult he knew at Magnus’ back. The only noises he made were of air passing through his lips.

“I’m doing this to show both you and your brother what happens when you cross me. If Dean behaves himself after this, then you won’t have to suffer any other punishment, Sam. Maybe I’ll even let you two share a room, since I won’t have to worry about your disgusting, incestuous inclinations anymore.”

Magnus prodded and pinched at the top of Sam’s sac, feeling out the cords while Sam grunted and twitched. When Magnus was satisfied, he positioned the burdizzo’s jaws around the cord feeding Sam’s left testicle.

“Now I’m not gonna lie to you, Sam, this is gonna hurt like a bitch. The manuals all say to use some sort of anesthetic when gelding your livestock, but I’ve never found it to be necessary. Pain can be a good lesson sometimes.”

“Please,” Sam opened his eyes and gave Magnus a pleading look. “I’m not livestock! I-I’m not an animal, I’m a human being. Please, don’t.”

“Hey, it’s okay, champ. I know you think this is the worst thing that could possibly happen to you, but I promise you’ll be fine. Someday you might not even miss them, or so I’m told. Now, hold still- ”

“Dean!”

Sam yelled his brother’s name as Magnus closed the burdizzo’s handles. It was more instinct than anything else. A last, desperate plea for his big brother to save him. There was an unsettling crunching noise, like someone eating potato chips, that made Dean want to curl into a ball and shield his own genitals from harm. He felt bile rising in the back of his throat and he pulled against his chains in a frenzy. One final, Herculean effort. Blood dripped from his arms and ankles as the metal bit into his flesh. The chains held.

Sam’s eyes were bulging, his mouth opened as if in surprise, and he made a sound like he’d been punched in the stomach. His body contorted as far as his chains would allow and then he froze, staring in shocked, silent agony at the device that was emasculating him.

“One-Mississippi, two-Mississippi, three-Mississippi- ” Magnus began to count, maintaining two-handed pressure on the handles. When he reached forty-five, he opened them. He took Sam’s scrotum in one hand, inspecting it. Sam groaned piteously.

“One down, one to go. You’re doing great, champ.”

Sam shook his head from side to side, groaning further while Magnus felt out his last cord.

“Did you know that the human male can function normally with just one testicle?” Magnus sadistically informed his victim as he positioned the burdizzo once more. “The remaining testicle swells up and does the job of two. Isn’t that amazing?”

 _You bastard!_ Dean bellowed internally. _You evil fucking bastard!_

“No, no, no,” Sam moaned brokenly as he felt the burdizzo preparing to complete his castration. “No, _please- ”_

“Almost done, Sammy,” Magnus said. Then he paused and looked contemplatively up at Sam. “Yeah, I think I’m gonna call you Sammy from now on. Sam is more of a _man’s_ name, after all.”

He looked back down at the burdizzo and closed the jaws for the second time. There was that awful crunch.

Dean screamed silently as Sam cried out loud. The younger Winchester convulsed, tears leaking from his eyes, while Magnus began his counting. Around _thirty-Mississippi_ Sam collapsed, head lolling like an abandoned marionette, only held up by the shackles binding him to the post. Magnus finished counting, discarded the burdizzo on the floor, and examined his handiwork. Tears streamed silently down Sam’s face.

“Your balls are dead,” Magnus informed Sam, pinching at the top of his scrotum. “They’ll swell up real big, then shrink away to nothing in a few weeks. After that all you’ll have between your legs is an empty sac and your big ol’ cock. Not that it’ll stay big for very long.  Not gonna get too much use anymore, huh?”

A deep, horrible keening somewhere between a whimper and a moan came from Sam’s open mouth. Dean could see that his scrotum had turned a darker color and was beginning to swell in Magnus’ hand. He shuddered, blinking back his own angry tears for his beautiful little brother’s ruination.

“Oh, it’s not all bad, Sammy.”

So far, Magnus had maintained a cheerful demeanor in his tone, incongruous with the torture and mutilation. Now he dropped all pretense. A viciousness crept its way into his voice.

“I mean, without testosterone that fabulous body of yours will go to crap. All those muscles will fade away. You might even get some little tits. But you’ll get to keep that fine head of hair forever.”

Sam didn’t respond to Magnus’ taunting. He looked at the floor, shoulders heaving with his soft, groaning sobs. Magnus let go of Sam’s mutilated parts and grabbed his face, making Sam look him in the eye.

“Best of all, no more lusting after your own brother, you sick little freak.”

Magnus dropped Sam’s face and turned to Dean.

“That should have been you too, Deano, but I need you whole to wield my Blade. Never forget, though, it’s _your_ fault your baby brother’s a nutless freak. You could have joined up with me willingly, but you had to make things difficult.”

Dean glared icily and imagined Magnus tied to Alastair’s rack with his own intestines. There was a building rage pounding in his skull.

“I’m gonna attend to Sammy here, get him set up in his accommodations, get him some ice, and then I’m gonna come back and unbind you. I hope this lesson took, Dean. When you can speak again the only words I want coming outta your mouth are ‘Yes, sir’ and ‘No, sir’. Any backtalk, any trying to attack me or weasel your way out of obeying me, and the next thing I take away from little Sammy is his cock. You get me?”

Dean nodded stiffly, mind awash in the futility of his predicament.

“Good boy.”

Magnus snapped his fingers and Sam’s chains clattered to the floor. Sam collapsed along with them. He curled into the fetal position, shaking hands reaching for the dead testicles that still hung between his legs. When he touched the swollen, discolored sac, he screamed and convulsed, moving his hands up to clutch at his stomach instead. He held himself, rocking slowly, while he sobbed in humiliation and hopelessness. His head was inches from the burdizzo, and waves of his long hair drifted over the evil device’s silver jaws.

“Oh, come on Sammy, dry those tears. Just ‘cause you’re a eunuch doesn’t mean you have to turn into a _complete_ pussy now, does it?”

Magnus crouched down over Sam, grabbing him by the shoulders and giving him a shake.

“Shh, Sammy, shh,” Magnus soothed mockingly. “As long as your brother cooperates, the worst is over for you. I’ll just lock you in a room in my zoo, you never have to see me again.”

He brushed hair from Sam’s sweating forehead in a show of sadistic tenderness.

“Won’t that be nice, Sammy?”

Magnus laughed cruelly before hauling Sam to his feet. Sam continued to groan and sob, holding his lower abdomen. Magnus took one of Sam’s arms and threw it over his own shoulder, supporting the taller man as he began to lead him out of the room. Sam waddled awkwardly, trying to keep his legs from touching the torturous pain his manhood had become. Dean started struggling again, overcome with panic when he realized Magnus was taking his mutilated brother somewhere he couldn’t follow. Before they disappeared through the doorway, Magnus paused, glancing back at Dean over his shoulder with a smirk.

“Oh, and I promise to take care of your big brother, Sammy. Give him everything he needs now that you aren’t, uh, _equipped_ to do it yourself.”

Dean shivered, wondering if Magnus was being serious. The last thing he heard as Magnus took Sam from him was his little brother’s disbelieving cry echoing down the hallway of Magnus’s fortress.


End file.
